


The New Oncoming Storm

by catvampcrazines



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Dark fic, DoctorDonna, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Mentions of Psychological Trauma, Payback, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Smut, Talk of the firewall and cooling system Ten set up in her mind., The Oncoming Storm, and consequences.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3095729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catvampcrazines/pseuds/catvampcrazines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor Donna saved herself, beat down the wall put up, found a cure—but not after a lot of struggle, pain, and trauma. She’s sworn to herself that she’ll give him a hint of what she went through.</p><p>A darker Doctor Donna managed to recover enough to track Ten down. They’ve just entered the TARDIS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Oncoming Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Notes 1: This may sound a bit dubcon for a sec in terms of (non-sexual) future plans, but Doctor Donna does have her own lines that she won’t cross. She would only do anything with him willing, in the end. She just badly wants him to realize what she went through after he was gone. I mean, take in the last events of JE, the info we got from End of Time, then imagine the amount of times Donna would have actually run across reminders of the Doctor and their time together. And the alien happenings, that would happen around her a bit too often, that she somehow couldn’t gloss over anymore. All the times she woke up, not having a clue.
> 
> Until she did.
> 
> Notes 2: I originally cut a section of this dark smutty gift fic to be something separate because I thought it freaking hurt way too much to keep together, but am being brave and piecing them back together here on Ao3. Seriously, I got pretty upset by what I wrote and I felt sorry for both of them. I also hadn't written fic for Ten and Donna in probably years and there was this intense, nasty, bite. I cried. 
> 
> How Ten must feel through every bit she informs him of…

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Donna leaned against the TARDIS’s doors once they’d entered.

"Say you’re sorry." She was safe, the Doctor Donna again, and her eyes were furious as they bore into the Doctor’s. 

He  _did not_ get to have the first word with them back in the TARDIS together, not after all these months. She’d worked so hard to overcome her brain overheating and climb over the wall in her mind. He didn’t know, but she’d teach him a bit of her anguish…  
  
He stepped close enough for their shoes to touch. They were both Converse.  
  
(She stared down at them in disbelief. When had she started wearing them nearly every day? God, this man, this  _not-a-Martian_. Damn him.)

When she looked back up, grief, self-loathing, and profound relief were all swimming in his eyes.  
  
His mouth trembled with everything he wanted to convey, Donna could see it—feel it hitting her in the gut.  
  
But he was obedient, simply saying, with all of his hearts, “I’m sorry,” his voice scratchy, distraught.   
  
This was usually the bit where he went in for a hug, but he kept his hands dangling at his sides.   
  
He  _knew_  that she deserved the lead here… and would forgive him eventually.  
  
Donna she stared and stared at him in silence before shuddering and blinking.  
  
She realized her breathing had sped up and swallowed, trying to calm down, but her right hand was sliding into his familiar hair and gripping tight. She kept it tight and uncomfortable, just short of actual pain, pulling him an inch closer, brushing her lips against his and tasting them with a flick of her tongue, watching his eyes flutter and shut.

He wheezed out a breath and she sank her teeth into his soft bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth—attentively laving the pain away.  
  
Before he could even get comfortable, she tugged his hair in a downwards motion in lieu of verbal instruction.  
  
And, oh, was he beautiful on his knees… chin tilted up so he could look at her, his pupils blown with the lust introduced to the rest of his warring emotions.  
  
She loosened her grip on his strands and cupped the back of his head gently, guiding his face closer and pressing it against her waist.  
  
He made a soft, desperate, sound and suddenly his arms wound around her, hugging her tight. She tried her best to keep stern as he very clearly, very deeply, breathed in her scent.  
  
She realized he was also memorizing what was new and trembled.  
  
She didn’t say or do anything else, curious to see what he would do, and after a minute of nuzzling her stomach and hips, his fingers went straight for the button her her jeans.  
  
He undid it deftly and pulled down the zipper, mashing his mouth to the top of her panties and sliver of bared flesh, breathing deep again.  
  
The material quickly darkened as he nipped and spread open-mouthed kisses there—leaving her groaning, grasping at his head with both hands as she leaned her weight against the TARDIS’s doors.  
  
His fingers were in the waistbands of her jeans and underwear, yanking them down to her knees with precision, his teeth grazing at the saliva-wet top of her mound.  
  
And he had her coming so fast, urged on by her whimpers, not caring about how messy (or glorious) he looked—his mouth, chin, and throat wet enough to match her inner thighs.  
  
She didn’t know how she’d managed to stay upright, riding through his extra “apology.”  
  
"Right," she said breathlessly, pulling him back from her oversensitized flesh, still distracted by how hard she’d come.  
  
He looked into her eyes again. They held some of that old cheer he used to have—and she got mad at herself for being distracted.  
  
He wore the most infinitesimal smile.  
  
"Don’t look so happy. That was all very," she swallowed a moan, "attentive, but you still owe me more apologies. I’ve had a lot of time to think of inventive punishments."

That slight lift at the corner of his mouth fell.

"I think we’ll start with… a blackout for every time I blacked out."

Startled, even though he must have thought of it happening, his eyes quickly welled up with tears. And it’s what she wants. God, she wants to see him cry the same amount she has.

"Only you’ll know what happened and where you are the first dozen times." 

He couldn’t take it anymore, casting his gaze toward grating.

She leaned down to touch her forehead to his. “Now, now, Spaceboy, I’m safe in the end… aren’t I? As much as I want my revenge, I’m never going to be overly violent with you. I love you, after all.” Donna placed a soft kiss to his forehead as his body shook softly with a half sob, half sigh. “I just want you to know my suffering… without the benefit of any memory-sharing cheats.”


End file.
